Fake Mating To My Ex's Powerful Enemy

Chapter 158: Chapter 158 Mob Mentality

Christina’s POV

The call came while I was setting up my workstation for the day. I’d just enjoyed breakfast at Ysolde’s shop before heading to my studio to prepare for a productive session.

My heart leapt when my phone rang. This could be the news I’d been waiting for.

"Ms. Vance, this is Nathan Liddickot from the Aureate Award Committee."

"Good morning," I replied, trying to contain my excitement.

I’d passed the preliminary round as an independent designer and assumed he was calling to confirm details for the next phase of competition.

"We regret to inform you that you’ve been disqualified from the competition."

"Excuse me?" I sat up straight, gripping the phone tighter. "Could you repeat that?"

He did.

"Why? Is there an issue with my submission? I can—"

"Your design work isn’t the problem," he stated, his tone stiff with discomfort. "Someone filed a complaint against you."

"About what, exactly?"

"There are numerous negative comments online about your studio. You’ve been accused of turning away customers and only working with celebrities who can afford your exorbitant fees."

"That’s complete nonsense." I fought to keep my voice steady. "This is about Zoe Foster, isn’t it? That video was fake. She orchestrated the whole thing—"

"Regardless, the fact remains you’ve worked with Ms. Octavia Grey but refused Ms. Foster. One’s a celebrity, the other is relatively unknown. I’m not passing judgment, but—"

"It certainly sounds like you are," I cut in coldly.

He cleared his throat. "We’ve received multiple complaints. Different names, different email addresses. Look, our sponsors are big companies and they don’t like controversy. They want champions they can be proud to promote, not people involved in online drama. I’m sorry. You might be able to apply again in three years."

The line went dead.

I stared at my phone, listening to the emptiness buzzing in my ears.

"This is ridiculous," Akira growled within me. "How can they just disqualify you without investigating properly?"

"I know," I muttered. "But what can I do? The damage is already done."

I don’t know how long I sat there frozen.

The room fell silent, the air thick and heavy around me.

Then, shouting from across the street snapped me back to reality.

I stiffly rose and walked to the window.

Outside, a crowd had gathered in front of Sugar & Whim. Mostly young women, loud and angry, pushing each other forward.

I ran.

The girls held phones up, filming, livestreaming, yelling over each other.

"That’s her! She’s the one who slapped Zoe! Ysolde Carlisle! She got Zoe fired from her job!"

The shouting didn’t stop.

They kept filming Ysolde like she was an animal in a zoo exhibit.

One swept her camera across the cake display case before zooming in on Ysolde’s face.

Others elbowed their way past tables, shoving regular customers aside.

Boxes toppled.

A girl knocked over a tray of mini meringues without so much as a glance.

"Zoe losing her job has nothing to do with me," Ysolde tried to explain.

They didn’t care.

No one was listening.

Dozens crammed inside, loud, hot, hysterical.

Ysolde was trapped behind the counter, cornered.

She loudly ordered her staff to call the police.

That only made things worse.

They surged forward again, backing her into a corner.

Phones still recording.

More girls squeezed through the door.

One stood on a chair.

I pushed through the crowd.

An elbow jabbed my ribs.

Someone stepped on my foot.

Finally, I reached Ysolde.

She looked trapped, face flushed, breathing hard, shoulders pressed against the coffee machine.

I positioned myself in front of her.

"What exactly are you trying to accomplish here?" I demanded loudly. "All of you. Is this your idea of justice? Ganging up on a woman?"

"We haven’t touched her. We’re just speaking up for Zoe!" one countered.

"She lost her job because of this woman!" another shouted. "She had a script ready and everything fell through!"

"This bitch thinks she’s above the law. Just because she’s rich and powerful—"

"She tried to blacklist Zoe!"

"She stole Zoe’s man and now she’s bitter because she lost!"

"Even if Zoe got blacklisted, the truth needs to come out! Keep streaming! Let everyone in the city see what kind of person she really is!"

I looked around at the cameras pointed at us.

Their faces were flushed, eyes gleaming with the intoxication of their own righteous anger.

They wanted vengeance.

"I had nothing to do with her being blacklisted," Ysolde continued defending herself. "Ask her agency. And I’m not stealing anyone’s man. That’s not what happened." freewebnσvel.cѳm

"Liar!" someone shrieked. "You’re wealthy and connected. Zoe’s just an ordinary girl. She doesn’t stand a chance against someone like you!"

The circle around us tightened.

Akira snarled inside me. "Let me out. I’ll tear them apart!"

"We can’t," I thought back. "They’re mostly humans. If we shift, we’d expose ourselves."

Though I desperately wanted to let my wolf loose on this mob, I restrained myself. The consequences would be catastrophic—not just for us, but for all shifters in Highrise City.

A girl in front thrust her camera lens practically into Ysolde’s face. frёeweɓηovel.coɱ

I clenched my jaw, holding back the urge to scream.

Yelling at a mob wouldn’t help.

"Think about this," I called out over the noise. I pushed just a hint of my wolf’s dominance into my voice, enough to grab their attention but not enough to blow my cover.

"You’re all being used. None of you knows if she was actually blacklisted. None of you has seen this supposed script. The only person who knows the whole truth is Zoe, who sent you here to cause trouble while she sits comfortably at home. If anyone gets arrested today, it won’t be her—it’ll be you. And that record? It’ll follow you forever."

My mouth felt dry.

My voice cracked on the last sentence.

Some of them hesitated, shifting uncomfortably, looking around.

Then a girl from the back shouted, "Don’t listen to her! She’s twisting everything! She’s trying to smear Zoe!"

"We’re not leaving until Zoe gets justice!"

The mob mentality resurged instantly, my brief control over the situation shattered. The crowd fell back into their collective frenzy, whipped into a heightened state of agitation.

The people in front pressed closer, shoving phones forward as if trying to jam the lenses between our teeth.

Someone tripped.

A table overturned.

Dishes crashed to the floor.

And that was it.

The fuse was lit.

"Screw this, just hit her! Let Zoe have her revenge!"

"There’s only two of them and dozens of us. Let’s go!"